


The Blacks: Semper Slytherin

by Maud Greyluck (MauraMaudJadeit)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black family feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Profanity, Slytherin!Sirius, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), alternative universe, but only Sirius on all three counts, of verbal physical and sexual nature, that affects multiple characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 01:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18201638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauraMaudJadeit/pseuds/Maud%20Greyluck
Summary: On 1st September 1971 Sirius Orion Black boards Hogwarts’ Express with a head full of doubts how his future will look like. He makes friends, potential enemies and plots how to protect his younger brother from their parents from afar.





	The Blacks: Semper Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you can recognise from any books or TV series or movies. I do however take liberties with the plots or mentions provided by JKR or other writers. The only profit I'm getting out of it is improving my English.
> 
> Title: The Blacks: Semper Slytherin
> 
> Rating/Warnings: R/M [AU; Slytherin!Sirius; Black family feels; profanity; canon-typical violence; references to child abuse of physical, verbal and sexual nature (affecting multiple characters though not all at the same time with the exception of Sirius); wizarding politics.
> 
> Chapter summary: On 1st September 1971 Sirius Orion Black boards Hogwarts’ Express with a head full of doubts how his future will look like. He makes friends, potential enemies and plots how to protect his younger brother from their parents from afar.
> 
> Word count: Around 16 000 words.
> 
> Author's note/personal ramble: Well, this sort of happened when I got stuck with Secrets & Keepers hence rather than a continuation to The Blacks I: Winds of Change and The Blacks II: Dark Clouds on the Horizon this story stands alone but while rooted in HP canon it’s also rooted in Secrets & Keepers universe. Hence the presence of certain characters from Secrets & Keepers as well as certain backstories which due to the fact that it’s essentially an AU version of an AU story might or might not happen. It will be continued at a snail pace due to the fact that I’m mostly concentrating on pushing Secrets & Keepers forward but I promise that I’ll be updating it.
> 
> Another, the most important, thing: It’s a Slytherin!Sirius AU, therefore, his placing will affect literally everything but most importantly it will affect his budding friendship with James Potter. So, consider yourselves warned  
> Dedicated to all of my readers who stuck with me for so long. Thank You, I hope that You will find this story enjoyable. I would be the most grateful for constructive criticism.

_Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen._

_~Winston Churchill_

 

**The Blacks: Semper Slytherin**

 

**Chapter one: Better Be in Slytherin**

 

He stood by the open window, angled uncomfortably in the only way which allowed him to watch retreating backs of his brother and his parents, they were so close to the exit that soon enough they will disappear behind the barrier and maybe then this weird feeling in his chest would disappear with them.

 

Or maybe not.

 

Bellatrix in the months leading up to September frequently tried to tease him that he would miss his mummy and daddy. He always retorted that perhaps it was her who was going to miss her mummy and daddy once she would finally marry Rodolphus Lestrange, which probably explained why she wasn’t taking more active than strictly necessary role in preparations to her looming nuptials.

 

But that broomstick had flown. Bellatrix Cruella Black – seriously, who allowed Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus to get away with the decision that meshing their own names would make a great and cute second name for Bella, whoever that was it certainly wasn’t anyone on the Black family side, it had to be that giggling idiot Bella, Meda and Cissy had for a Rosier grandmother –  had married Rodolphus Francis Lestrange on Saturday, 28th August 1971 in Black Manor, Derbyshire and following a relatively short lunch they disappeared to France from where they would hopefully never return.

 

That still left him standing on Hogwarts’ Express an entire hour before the train was supposed to depart with a sinking feeling that he shouldn’t be there at all. He tried his best to reason out with Grandpa Arcturus that he should be held back this year, home-schooled or not, he didn’t really care and that he should enter Hogwarts together with Regulus. And maybe, just maybe Grandpa Arcturus would have given in if only Sirius could find in himself the power to give him a good reason to hold him back. But as hard as he tried to argue his point when it came to revealing why he truly wanted to be held back it couldn’t make it out of his mouth.

 

And now Regulus was going to be alone in that goodness-forsaken tomb with one lunatic that held one-sided conversations with furniture and talked at house-elves as if they were fellow pure-bloods and a… and a… and a…

 

He couldn’t even admit it in front of himself, let alone Grandpa Arcturus, and the pain his father inflicted on him was still there, not just as fresh as it was last night but persistently there, under the surface.

 

He sneaked into the bathroom last night, once he was sure that his parents were sleeping and he scrubbed himself raw until no trace of last night’s abuse other than bruises that his father left on him. Bruise salve took care of the bruises like usual and once clean and fresh he sneaked into Regulus’s bed and let sleepy Regulus snuggle up to him while he just lied there and kept wishing that there was something, he could do to protect his baby brother from their parents.

 

He could still run away and maybe rather than with Grandpa Arcturus argue with father about the pros of keeping him around for another year. After all he had the leverage with father, he will always have the leverage with his father for as long as that twisted, sick, bastard desired it. And he would bear it, sweet Merlin, for Regulus’s safety, for Reg’s innocence he would always bear it. He’ll always chose to sacrifice himself for Reggie, like he had done in the past.

 

But ultimately it wasn’t Orion Arcturus Black who was the Head of the Black family but Arcturus Sirius Black and neither was Orion Arcturus Black, who was the Heir to Head of the Black family but him, Sirius Orion Black and one day, in the future Sirius would destroy the man he was obliged to call his father. He just needed to hold on, for a little while longer, to protect Reg for a little while longer.

 

Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe from these two.

 

His eyes were prickling and his throat was closing up. But he shook his head, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. The Blacks didn’t cry and he wasn’t just any Black. He was Sirius Orion Black, he was the Heir to the Head of the Black family and once Grandpa Arcturus will pass – or decide to hand down that tittle to him whichever will come first – he will be the Head of the Black family.

 

He didn’t have time to weep, soon enough Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella would come around to drop off Andromeda and Narcissa and both of his cousins had owls and unlike Bellatrix they were much kinder creatures.

 

So hopefully…

 

By the time, when fifteen minutes later, his cousins arrived he had the letter to Grandma Melania ready to be sent. He also managed to extract from Andromeda a promise to let him use Winifred as soon as her parents’ backs were turned while he was still charming Aunt Druella with how delightful she looked in her summer robe (but then again Aunt Druella was a Rosier and the Rosiers were mostly idiots, their only saving grace were always their good looks and great fashion sense).

 

Once the letter was sent and he politely declined accompanying either of them to their respective compartments (because while he was very fond of Andromeda and Narcissa individually he wasn’t very fond of their friends, who were mostly pure-bloods and who looked at him like vultures at a piece of meat) he returned to the compartment in which he left his stuff and allowed himself a moment of rest. Who knew maybe he could even have a nap, he certainly deserved it.

 

It seemed like barely a minute had passed since he curled in his seat and closed his eyes before he had to open them again because the door to the compartment opened with a bang and a bespectacled kid with black hair walked inside.

 

“Hey there,” he said cheerfully as he dropped his trunk in the middle of the compartment. “Are you a first year?” Sirius barely managed to nod before the kid kept going. “You don’t really look like a first year, you know?” he asked.

 

Sirius knew. He was going to turn twelve in November and he was exceptionally high for a soon to be twelve years old, Cissy teased him that at 150 cm he looked more like a stunted fourteen years old than a not yet twelve years old and what was worse, he was going to grow higher still because the Blacks were always at least slightly higher than average wizards.

 

In the meantime, the kid was still talking… about Quidditch by the sounds of it and the chances of Puddlemere United winning the league cup, which according to the kid were pretty high. Sirius never cared much about Quidditch, he was a decent flyer and made a challenging keeper against whom Cissy, Slytherin Quidditch team Chaser, could train during the summer while they were in Derbyshire but that was the extent of his flying abilities and actually his desire to fly on a broomstick. Now Reggie, that was another story, Regulus loved flying and on occasion during summers in Derbyshire Sirius or more often Sirius and Narcissa had to chase the little bugger around the manor to get him down for a meal…

 

They were fond memories. Narcissa with her hair flying wild around her face (because they always managed to slip away from whichever hairdo she had), lying practically flat on her broomstick and chasing after Regulus at neck-breaking speed around the gardens while Sirius tried to match either of them in speed but usually ended like Andromeda, Slytherin’s Very Reserve and Mostly on Narcissa’s Insentience Keeper, just trying to herd the other two in the right direction.

 

A smile had to show on his face because the kid continued, “I know, they’re the best.”

 

Sirius was going to take the kid’s word for it. The only Quidditch matches he actually saw were Narcissa’s games against other houses. He could have tagged along with Regulus and Narcissa on occasional league games on which Uncles Cygnus and Alphard invited the younger members of the Black family but even though he sometimes started as invited he soon gave his spot to one of Narcissa’s friends who just had to see whichever idiot was the most popular player at the moment.

 

And he will have to stop zoning out because the kid looked at him expectantly as if he was waiting for a reply.

 

“Sorry,” said Sirius sheepishly. “I didn’t sleep much last night. What did you ask me?” he smiled gently.

 

“Your name,” said the kid sceptically. “I asked what’s your name after I told you that my name is James. So?”

 

“Sirius,” answered Sirius.

 

“What kind of a name is Sirius?” the kid asked. “It’s so eighteen century that you have to be careful to not turn into an old guy on the spot,” he beamed as if he said a good joke.

 

“It’s a family name and I happen to like it,” shrugged Sirius. “At least odds are in my favour that I will be the only Sirius at school while you, James, will be one of many, many Jameses,” he teased.

 

“But I’ll still be a very special snowflake,” James retorted cheekily. “Speaking of snowflakes, Sirius… Please tell me that your middle name is Lee?” he smirked.

 

“It’s Orion, sorry to burst your bubble,” Sirius smirked back.

 

“When you have a kid, you should totally name him Sirius Lee Junior,” James said quickly.

 

“I wouldn’t do that to any child of mine,” protested Sirius lightly. “You have no idea how hard any kid of mine will have it at Hogwarts, even without that name.”

 

“I kind of do,” James smirked. “My Dad’s name is Fleamont. My Grandpa Henry used his mother’s maiden name to name him. Dad always told me that was why he quickly became a very good dueller.”

 

“What’s your surname again?” asked Sirius curiously. “I didn’t hear it.”

 

“It’s because I didn’t say it, duh,” smirked James. “It’s Potter. James Potter of Potter Beautifying Emporium or what was left of it anyway,” he added sourly. “And you?”

 

“Black,” muttered Sirius grimly trying to squelch the oncoming disappointment of the upcoming reaction while at the same time his mind tried to figure out where he heard that name before.

 

“Never heard of them,” James shrugged. “Anything interesting?”

 

“Not really,” mumbled Sirius. “You know the usual.”

 

“Actually, I don’t,” smiled James. “We don’t get out much and when we do, we only visit immediate neighbourhood. So, you can be the son of the Minister for Magic and I wouldn’t be able to tell. Hell, I don’t even know who is the Minister for Magic.”

 

Such ignorance was unheard of in the House of Black. Granted Grandpa Arcturus never expected from any of the kids to name all Heads of the Departments in the Ministry of Magic but by age of five for certain and probably even four Sirius, Regulus and his cousins could name currently serving Minister for Magic as well as currently serving Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

 

“Eugenia Jenkins,” said Sirius mechanically allowing deeply ingrained childhood instinct to answer the question he was indirectly asked.

 

“Good for her,” nodded James.

 

Sirius could argue but it seemed that any arguments he might have about usefulness of Eugenia Jenkins talents and politics as well as future plans were wasted on someone as disinterested in what was going in the world he was living as James.

 

It was bloody weird and also bloody refreshing.

 

“How did you do that?” asked Sirius sceptically.

 

“What?” asked James curiously.

 

“This,” Sirius waved his hands.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” shrugged James. “Seriously. Why should I care who is the current Minister for Magic? Someone has to be and they had to do their job well enough so there are no riots on the streets...”

 

“They were,” objected Sirius.

 

“When?” asked James simply. “Not recently for sure.”

 

“Two years ago. Do you live under a rock?” protested Sirius.

 

“No, West Country, why you’re asking?” asked James. “Where do you live?”

 

“London,” answered Sirius. “And when I’m not in London I spend my time with my grandparents in Derbyshire.”

 

“Good for you,” smiled James. “Any interesting things happen there?”

 

“Mostly husband hunting,” snorted Sirius. “Ever attended one?”

 

“Probably,” sighed James. “The Abbott family lives nearby, I think one of three of their daughters is supposed to be in our year, Charlotte, I think. Or was it Charity? I’m not sure. She’s a shy, kind of bland little thing, very mousy in colouring and has zero interest in Quidditch. Speaking of Quidditch, who you’re rotting for?” he asked eagerly.

 

“Nobody,” shrugged Sirius.

 

“Nobody?” mumbled James as he stared at him in shock. “How can you rot for nobody?”

 

“Quite simply,” said Sirius. “I have a zero interest in Quidditch myself. My brother on the other hand, he would keep up with you.”

 

“Older or younger?” asked James curiously. “Because if he’s older we are going to find him and I’m going to ask him how did you manage to get yourself so uncultured...”

 

“Younger,” Sirius cut him off quickly. “Regulus is younger than me. He’ll be entering Hogwarts next year.”

 

“Cool, so next year he’ll be sitting with us and in the meantime, I’ll have to educate you myself,” said James quickly. “Also, what kind of a name is…” he started but seemed to change his mind. “I know, a family name, right?”

 

“Right,” muttered Sirius.

 

“Where I was?” said James. “Right, snowflakes. There’s this amazing Zonko’s product….”

 

And then he proceed to tell Sirius everything about some weird balls which one could throw at someone that upon contact covered people with snow. Apparently, it was quite a hit in West Country this summer and the entire Potter neighbourhood went so rampant with it that several families received a warning for using Special Snowflakes (a truly ingenious name, probably thought out by a complete idiot) around Muggles. The warnings didn’t appear to curb kids’ enthusiasm for it, only made them a little more careful about playing with them around Muggle kids.

 

Then James went about the rest of Zonko’s catalogue and Sirius listened eagerly with a growing amusement that there were people in the world that they were willing to waste quite a lot of their money on… let’s just be frank, a piece of complete Hippogriff manure. And while some of the stuff, like Biting Teacups seemed like a good gift to send to freshly married Bellatrix the rest of it Sirius wouldn’t even as much as poke with a finger (and not only because his finger might end up being bitten off).

 

But listening to James talk about Zonko’s beat listening to Ithuriel Jenkins argue with Thaddeus Travers the pros and cons of improving Squib Laws. One wouldn’t be able to call that a proper discussion since both had very strong opposing views on the matter and didn’t allow anyone to even try and mediate between them. So, for most of the time when these two got going the rest of the kids who weren’t interested in having their own discussions about politics simply brought snacks and made bets which one of them would throw the first punch (it was always Travers, Sirius won a pretty insane amount of knuts by betting on him).

 

Then there was the usual husband hunting rituals which happened with the girls. Who are you? Everybody knew who the rest of the attendants were, so that was never much of a surprise. Where are you from? Pretty much the same, it wasn’t as if people in wizarding world moved a lot, usually it was between their usual and summer residences. What you like? The answer to that question was the only one that varied. Then there was Sirius’s personal favourite: what you’re looking for in a future wife? His answer always was: I’ll know when I’ll find her.

 

Maybe if Grandpa Pollux was the Head of the Black family, he would have to worry about future wife now but as it was Grandpa Arcturus wasn’t planning to sign or agree to any planned arranged marriages before Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus would graduate from Hogwarts. Which meant that any tentative plans for arranging future partners for them would happen after their O.W.L.s exams or maybe after sixth year. Aunt Druella had already one candidate for Andromeda’s future husband lined up but she was still in the process of rounding up the complete list of viable candidates and she wasn’t in hurry, much.

 

Granted mother wanted to have Sirius married off quickly (when she was thinking about it, which blessedly didn’t happen very often), preferably to a Selwyn or a Carrow or a Nott or even a Runcorn but since she didn’t really have power to do pretty much anything (not even making him sit next to one of them during official meals) Sirius wasn’t worried. And if he ever was going to be worried about possible highly inappropriate matches, he still had his back up for arranged wife in Persephone Greengrass.

 

He didn’t love her and she didn’t love him but they mutually found in each other the least annoying probable future spouse within their age range with similar views at politics and rising eventual kids. So, at age of ten they made a pact that if by twenty-one they will be both unmarried and emotionally unattached, as well as free from such obligations then he will petition her father for her hand and she will consent to the arrangement. Grandpa Arcturus would be proud, so would be Democles Greengrass seeing that they were both hoping for gaining more political leeway.

 

But his eventual marriage was still years away and might not even happen seeing that Sirius truly wished Cora – that was how she preferred to be called, she hated family’s tendency to use Greek names and Sirius privately believed it was because everybody nicknamed Persephone Percy or Phoney – the best, amongst which was devoted husband who would worship the ground she was walking on and who would love her as much as she would love him.

 

Granted it was a very irrational and romanticised notion for someone who was raised in a loveless arranged marriage but then again as a counter example to his parents’ union he had Grandpa Arcturus and Grandma Melania as well as Aunt Lucretia and Uncle Ignatius. And if he squinted just hard enough, he could even add Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella into it, they were both idiots but at least and unlike say Grandpa Pollux and Grandma Irma they liked each other, and never mind Bella, their younger daughters turned out all right.

 

Sirius was tuning in and out of the conversation with James. He liked James’s enthusiasm even though he wasn’t really interested in the subject of it. It was truly refreshing and it wasn’t as if he could get James to talk about his views at Squibs’ Laws. Odds were James probably didn’t know what the word Squib meant.

 

Merlin who rises a kid like that? Unthinkable in a Black family or pretty much any pure-blood family Sirius knew. He had heard, many times that ignorance breeds a lot of bad and ugly things... but apparently it made some children’s childhoods very happy.

 

Point for James Potter. But he would still rather be an aware Sirius Black than an ignorant James Potter…. Regardless of how much he was beginning to envy James his parents who apparently dotted on him so much that they bought up half of the Honeydukes and sent it with James to Hogwarts. They were also worried every time James performed one of many stunts, he knew on his broom even though they saw him making them many times.

 

Sirius couldn’t recall his parents ever being worried about him or Regulus. Grandma Melania, yes, sure, she always worried especially when they were out flying or sneaking out in the evenings into the park. Grandpa Arcturus too, although he didn’t show it, he was a firm believer that if one didn’t believe in a warning that the fire was hot and burning then by all means they should stick their hand into it and learn the hard way. But mother and father? Not once, not ever.

 

Sirius obviously chimed in an occasional comment here and there but majority of their conversation was James’s monologue with an occasional question thrown in here or there to ask Sirius about his opinion.

 

It was during one of those brief pauses when a red-haired tornado burst into the compartment and made a beeline to a seat by the window in which she collapsed just as the train started moving. From very little of her face Sirius could see he could tell that she was crying and some deeply ingrained instinct to offer a crying lady a handkerchief kicked in so he slid from his seat towards the girl with a handkerchief in his outstretched hand and offered it to the girl.

 

She accepted it with a very suspicious look in her startling green eyes which in turn reminded him of a different pair of green eyes, in a very different shade of green and he had to take a breath and just say something to not go down that road.

 

“You okay?” he asked gently. “Did someone hurt you? Because there are prefects on the train and we can report it.”

 

“No,” the girl mumbled. “I’m fine,” she added mutinously. “And quite frankly, it isn’t really your business.”

 

“Just asking,” said Sirius defensively and he tried to give her a smile that didn’t look like an offended grimace, because he wasn’t really offended but the girl just like James was bloody weird. “If you will change your mind, I’ll be right there,” he added as he slid back to his former place and turned to James with, “You were saying?”

 

It took James a moment to come back to where he ended. Apparently, the girl unnerved him, probably on the very principle that she was a girl. Poor sheltered snowflake, James was going to learn the hard way that the sheltering to which his parents appeared to subject him was a double-edged sword. It was good that he was starting small, Sirius smirked to himself.

 

Well, other than completely monopolising the conversation James appeared to be a good kid and he would probably make a good friend if someone polished him out of this only child babble. Sirius wasn’t as experienced conversationalist as say Grandpa Arcturus but he was experienced enough to make his own observations. In so far in his experience Sirius found that the biggest babblers amongst his peers were only children with very limited contact with people their own age. Granted, here and there happened a shy only child that had to be coaxed out of its shell but more often than not Sirius found that the babbler didn’t have siblings.

 

Maybe he should allow James to run out of things to say. Zonko’s catalogue had to have an end and Quidditch… Or maybe he should turn the conversation to what James was hoping to learn at Hogwarts. The kid had to have some other interests.

 

Just as he was about to change the subject of the conversation the door to the compartment slid open and another kid walked inside. He was already dressed in school robes which was bloody weird because the train barely started moving. Additionally, while never interested in fashion Sirius picked up enough of cues from Grandpa Arcturus, Narcissa and Andromeda that he could tell the quality of robes just by taking a quick look at them. That kid’s robes had a clear shine of being used and seemed tad too big for him, not big enough that he was swimming in them but big in this ‘let’s hope that you won’t hit a grow spurt within next two years’ manner. He saw it before, during that one family meeting on which Cedrella Weasley’s children and grandchildren were also invited.

 

The kid didn’t pay him and James any attention and focused on talking with the girl. Sirius in return didn’t pay him any attention and focused on coaxing out of James his opinion about what might be his favourite subject.

 

Weirdly, it turned out that it wasn’t Potions, which James called throwing a bunch of random stuff into a cauldron with hopes of turning it into other stuff. Sure, the potions built a sizeable chunk of the Potter family fortune but maybe he was one of this precious few family members who just had no real talent for it. Transfiguration on the other hand, now that was something he was looking forward.

 

Sirius teased him that with the way he was describing it Transfiguration sounded pretty much like Potions except without involving a cauldron, with all this foolish wand waving and pointing it at various objects in hopes that they will turn into something else.

 

He was about to say to James indignant huff that he was also looking forward to Transfiguration when the piece of conversation between the other kid and the girl distracted James enough to get himself involved with it.

 

“Slytherin?” James coughed up. “Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” James turned to him with a smile.

 

Sirius didn’t smile back.

 

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said simply.

 

“Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!”

 

Sirius found himself grinning at that.

 

“Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” he asked curiously.

 

James lifted an invisible sword as he said, “Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

 

The other kid made a small, disparaging noise that made James turn on him.

 

“Got a problem with that?”

 

“No,” said the kid with a slight sneer. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy...”

 

One of the deeply ingrained lessons which Grandpa Arcturus taught him was that the only gracious way to accept an insult was to ignore it; if you can't ignore it, top it; if you can't top it, laugh at it; if you can't laugh at it, then it was probably deserved.

 

So, he reacted instinctively and topped it.

 

“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” just flew out if his mouth before the kid finished the sentence, knowing fully well that few minutes from now he’ll be mentally kicking himself for alienating strangers on the very first day of his school career.

 

The Blacks didn’t act that way. Sure, they showed contempt, and quite a lot of it come to think about it, but never prior to assuaging the usefulness of their potential adversary. And what he was doing? Picking on a kid for wanting to be in Slytherin while, let’s be serious, he was going to end in Slytherin too? And Slytherins were supposed to stand up for each other.

 

Just bloody great.

 

All of this went through his head as James roared with laughter and the girl by the window sat up in her seat with a flush on her face as bright red as her hair.

 

She looked from James to Sirius with dislike and said haughtily, “Come on, Severus, let’s find another compartment.”

 

The long pitched ‘o’ just flew out of his mouth together with James’s before he could stop himself. It was a knee-jerk reaction to loftiness of certain individuals that thought themselves better than the rest and more often than not an offended storm off of said individual was followed by Sirius, and sometimes Sirius’s and Regulus’s mock storm off that caused other kids to snicker.

 

Really, who was that girl? She had no proper manners and was friendly with one truly cantankerous boy that didn’t know a lick about being a Slytherin but for some reason he wanted to be one. Slytherin would eat both of them alive, before tomorrow’s dinner.

 

The door slammed shut behind them just as James finished calling after them, “See ya, Snivellus!”

 

“So, where were we?” he asked eagerly as he turned to Sirius.

 

Where turned up to be a lesson about Exploding Snap, which Sirius never played. He notoriously played other card games, mostly with his older relatives. Mostly poker, rummy, canasta and whist. Lately after teaching Regulus to play poker properly while teaming against Bellatrix the rest of them managed to win a substantial amount of money from her which pissed her off to no end. How she didn’t manage to spot that they were all playing against her he had no idea but her fury and temper tantrum was glorious, as was the chiding she received from Grandpa Arcturus for throwing a fit while being the only supposed adult at the gaming table.

 

The game went on for pretty much next four hours and Sirius found himself losing quite miserably to James. He managed to earn back what he lost by teaching James blackjack, in which James lost miserably not only the money he won from Sirius but also his own monthly allowance but he managed to stop himself from allowing James to bet other stuff because he finally managed to catch the sight of Winifred flying along the train.

 

“Here,” he said as he handed James back his money throwing into it few galleons of his own. “Buy me something from the cart when the lady will show up.”

 

“Where you’re off?” asked James curiously.

 

“Bathroom,” answered Sirius. “Want to come with me?”

 

“No, I’m good,” smirked James.

 

He left the compartment and headed for the nearest bathroom. Technically, he could have gone for the nearest empty compartment but the truth was he needed to pee, not desperately but he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

 

He was just turning the corner that lead to the bathroom when he collided with another small tornado.

 

“Sorry,” the tornado yelped just as it landed on the ground before his feet.

 

He was luckier and managed to maintain standing position because at the time of the collision he had both of his feet placed firmly on the ground.

 

Tornado turned out to be a girl with a mass of long, curly, dark-brown hair and a pair of amazingly light brown eyes (much lighter than the Black family brown eyes, which seemed the only alternative colour to grey).

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” they said almost in unison which made them both smile at each other.

 

Sirius smiled again as he offered her his hand, which she accepted, and he hauled her back to her feet.

 

“So, what’s your name?” he asked curiously. “I kind of like knowing into whom I’m running. Mine is Sirius Black.”

 

“Bathsheda Babbling,” she answered quickly but politely.

 

“Not Bathsheba?” he tried cautiously.

 

“Nope,” she smiled. “My father couldn’t spell my name properly when he was filling up my birth certificate. Not my fault, I can either own it or change it and I kind of like rubbing into his face so I’m not going to change it.”

 

“Well, Bathsheba was a woman that seduced a king and Bathsheda...” said Sirius swiftly. “Kind of sounds like a bathing shed.”

 

“I know,” she smiled. “But you see, there are plenty Bathshebas in wizarding world but I’m probably the only one Bathsheda.”

 

“You’re a special snowflake, aren’t you?” smirked Sirius.

 

“Seeing that I was born in December I kind of have to,” she replied simply. “Also, really, Black? That was low,” she grimaced.

 

“If it’s any consolation I just learned about their existence,” he said sheepishly. “Apparently it was quite a hit in Western Country this summer.”

 

“It was,” she agreed. “Trust me, I know, I was visiting extended family there. I’m not going to make the same mistake again. For Christmas break if we will be going there, I’m bringing a batch of water balloons, let’s see how testicle left and right will fare in a fair fight.”

 

“You call water balloon fight in December a fair fight?” asked Sirius curiously. “And testicles?”

 

“All is fair in love and war and let me tell you that catching pneumonia in the middle of the summer is no fun. I was running a fever so high that I was hallucinating snowmen in my bedroom. As for testicles, well, they are twins and their older brother is kind of a prick and they follow him around so...” she said with a smile. “If I time it right, they will miss Christmas and won’t that be awful.”

 

“You aren’t planning to end in Slytherin?” he asked.

 

“I wouldn’t mind,” she shrugged. “Well, it’s either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. As you can hear I’m not really a Hufflepuff material and I’m not really a fan of Gryffindor red. We have a carpet in fencing room in that colour and it excellently covers blood spatter. It’s no wonder that Gryffindors get in so many fights, if I had to spend my days staring at so much red, I will be looking for a fight myself.”

 

“If you fight like you talk then yes, better not be in Gryffindor,” he smirked. “Babbling,” he dead-paned.

 

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly. “I’m a little nervous, I hate being the centre of attention and odds are that I’ll be the first to be sorted and all eyes will be on me and my friend will probably be the last because she’s a V and then there’s switching my brain to thinking in English.”

 

“You don’t usually think in English?” he asked curiously.

 

“I usually do,” she answered. “But my family is Jewish and we spend a lot of time in Middle East or just hopping around...”

 

“The ancient dig sites,” nodded Sirius. “You’re that kind of Babbling, from the family of the curse-breakers and linguists.”

 

“Mostly,” she nodded. “So yeah, the list of languages I know fluently is quite long and we were always taught to think in them and just recently I was chaperoning a bunch of kids of my father’s co-workers from France, Russia and Greece and my brain is still trying to switch between them so I have to make a conscious effort to think in English… So yeah, I live up to my last name.”

 

“But in a cute way,” he smirked. “And I have on a pretty good authority that there’s a first year Abbott on the train so you might not worry about being the first to be sorted,” he paused and added cheekily, “only a second.”

 

“If I’m a second, then you’re a third,” she replied cheekily. “But then again, you don’t look worried.”

 

“I’m not,” he admitted even though he was worried. “Now, excuse me, my lady,” he brought the tips of her fingers to his lips as he bowed slightly. “But I really have to go,” he added with a cheeky grin. “I’ll see you around.”

 

“Same here,” she smiled. “Would you mind if I’ll catch you some time during the weekend to ask a question or two about the Black family library?”

 

“Not at all,” he said. “I shall reserve an entire Saturday afternoon between lunch and dinner just for your question. We will settle the place for it sometime later this week, Miss Babbling,” he added cheekily.

 

“Mister Black,” she smirked. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“I assure you, my lady, the pleasure was mine,” he smirked back as he took a step back and allowed her to pass in front of him.

 

He watched her walking down the corridor until she reached the last compartment and walked inside before he ducked into the bathroom, locked the door and yanked the window open allowing a very unimpressed Winifred, the eagle-owl, to fly into the bathroom.

 

“I know, I know,” he mumbled. “But I have to keep some standards, you know.”

 

Winifred stared at him pointedly before she decided to stuck out her leg towards him. He took the letter from her and gave her an owl treat he fished out of his pocket (which he got from Andromeda) before he sat down on the closet toilet lid and began to read his letter. It read:

 

_Dear Sirius,_

_Your idea to invite Regulus to Derbyshire for the autumn was met with your grandfather’s approval. He, like you, believes that your parents would benefit from peace and quiet a childless house would offer them just like we would benefit from having someone to look after._

_I have to admit that after the departure of the family after Bellatrix’s wedding the manor was overwhelmingly quiet in the last few days. Sure, it’s nice to finally have the manor to ourselves after so many weeks of basically tripping over strangers just as much as family members but like it has been said, you don’t know what you have till it’s gone._

_Unfortunately, we won’t be able to house Regulus for the entire autumn like you were hoping for, as we already made plans for the last three weeks of November. While tweaking them around to include Regulus wouldn’t be a problem for us and we wouldn’t really mind having him with us I’m quite certain that Regulus would mind spending entire three weeks in what he would call ‘an old people resort’. He really needs people his own age for company and seeing that so many of you are heading to Hogwarts right now…. Well, there’s Gabriel Goyle and Wendeline Crabbe’s younger cousin, I think Ichabod or was it Ignatius, I’m not sure. They aren’t the roundest apples in the bunch and they’re lacking this particular brand of shine… but either way, we will figure it out in few weeks._

_Your grandfather is telling me, just as I’m writing this, that while he would be incredibly happy if you got yourself sorted into Slytherin like the rest of the family he would also be quite content if you would end in Ravenclaw, like me. He is also telling me that if you would end in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor he will still love you regardless of your placement…. But don’t listen to him and don’t let my mother’s opinion on Hogwarts’ Houses influence your placement. Hufflepuff is for people who have yet to figure out who they are and what they believe in while Gryffindor is for people who act without thinking first and you, my Sweet Plum, are neither. You know who you are, you always had. You’re incredibly smart, talented and thoughtful. Don’t let anyone try to convince you that you aren’t._

_Go Ravenclaw! Make your Grandmother proud. Also, I wouldn’t really mind winning that one hundred galleons bet with your Grandfather that you would be the first Black to get sorted outside Slytherin but either way the house will win so no harm will be done if you won’t._

_All my love, my Sweet Plum,_

_Grandma Mel_

  1. _S. Tonight I’ll be delivering a personal invitation to Horace Slughorn to the Black family New Year’s Eve Ball so while we are definitely going to hear about the effect of the sorting tonight, I’m sure that your parents would appreciate receiving an official confirmation about your placement from you. Hopefully before your cousins will send one. Your mother might not be the fittest mother in the world but being treated as such would greatly improve her mood, especially after we will remove her remaining son from under her care. Take care and make us proud regardless of where you’re going to end (although I’m hoping that it will be Slytherin)._



_Grandpa Arcturus_

 

By the time he was finished with his letter Winifred was sitting on his left shoulder and appeared to be sleeping and seeing that Winifred was no longer an owlet rather than a full-grown owl his shoulder began to cramp slightly.

 

In theory he could shoo her out through the open window but she had done him a great favour so rather than doing that he decided to personally return her to Andromeda.

 

He found Meda in a compartment in a second to last carriage, suspiciously lacking her usual female entourage but listening eagerly to a blond-haired Hufflepuff prefect as he was describing something that looked a bit like riding a horse, an unmoving horse by the looks of it.

 

“Hey Meda,” chirped Sirius. “I got your owl back.”

 

“Oh, Sirius,” mumbled Andromeda nervously. “Did you get what you wanted?”

 

“Yes, I got exactly what I wanted to get,” he nodded. “Won’t you introduce us?”

 

“Of course,” she smiled quickly. “Sirius, this is Ted Tonks, a fellow sixth year prefect from Hufflepuff,” she motioned with her hand at the boy. “Ted, this is my cousin, Sirius Black. He’s a first year,” she motioned with her hand at Sirius.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Sirius,” said Ted. “I’m sure that you get that a lot but you...”

 

“… don’t really look like a first year,” finished Sirius dryly as he allowed Andromeda to remove Winifred from his shoulder. “I know, Ted. So, what about this horse-riding thing I just saw.”

 

“Sirius!” Andromeda gasped out.

 

“Oh, that,” said Ted sheepishly. “It wasn’t horse riding, although I wouldn’t really mind learning how to ride one. They’re truly majestic creatures, like Hippogriffs, except from what I heard they’re mostly more approachable than Hippogriffs. But what I was demonstrating your cousin is what I actually managed to ride or more precisely just recently learned how to ride. My older brother has a small business at the outskirts of London where he fixes motorbikes.”

 

“Motorbikes?” asked Sirius curiously. “Pardon me, but I require some clarification. Are they like bikes? Do you have to paddle a lot when you ride one? Because if you have to then it sounds kind of lousy.”

 

“Not really,” chuckled Ted. “From what I heard bikes weren’t a big hit in wizarding world.”

 

“Not without involving some pretty required spellwork, they weren’t,” nodded Sirius. “Although my grandparents bike, grandma tells me that proper exercise keeps them both in shape. But to me it sounds like a lot of effort with very little fun.”

 

“Then you might like motorbikes better,” said Ted. “The concept is the same, the frame looks similar, albeit sturdier and with a better seat but you don’t have to paddle to move, the motor makes the bike move for you.”

 

“How?” asked Sirius curiously. “Magic?”

 

“Yes, it’s called combustion of liquid fuels,” said Ted swiftly. “And explaining it to wizards is like explaining magic to Muggles, except in reverse.”

 

“You tried that, didn’t you?” asked Sirius cheekily.

 

“Not really, my older brother once tried to read my theory of magic textbooks when I was starting Hogwarts and he tried to make me read his engine manuals. We mutually agreed that we don’t understand out of what we read more than a stray word here and there and we ended at that. That doesn’t mean that riding an actual motorbike is great fun. Kind of like flying, except without worrying that you will fall from your broom and break your neck,” explained Ted.

 

“Not a fan of heights?” asked Sirius curiously.

 

“It’s not heights itself as much as lack of the proper support that will keep me from falling,” admitted Ted. “Okay, I believe in magic, I’m a wizard, I use magic on daily basis and I’m confident in my abilities. What I’m not really confident in is sitting on a charmed stick and believing that all the charms that make it work and make it remotely comfortable won’t malfunction at the worst possible time. Quite frankly, I can’t wait to learn apparation, then I wouldn’t have to rely on flying sticks and the questionable state of cleanliness of the public Floo Network.”

 

“Ever heard of Portkeys?” asked Sirius pointedly.

 

“Yeah, I did and unlike, pardon me for pointing that out, families like yours that managed to wrangle out of Wizengamot the exception to allow the Heads of the families to create Portkeys that remain unauthorised by the Portkey Office I once did apply for a permit to create one which would allow me to attend my sister’s wedding during the school year. Let me tell you, I wasted precious hours at filling three separate copies of that permit which the idiot who works in there managed to lose.”

 

“All three of them?” asked Sirius. “Well, tough luck, but you made it to the wedding, didn’t you?”

 

“Barely and practically covered from head to toe in soot, hence my complaints about the state of cleanliness of the public Floo Network,” answered Ted with a huff.

 

“The Floo Network employees don’t care for the state of cleanliness of public accessible fireplaces,” explained Sirius. “They make money from maintaining private fireplaces and the working network between them and what they get for maintaining public fireplaces is just bloody ridiculous. Unfortunately, not many members of the Wizengamot can see the danger of not improving the budget of the Floo Network, especially in regards of maintaining working public fireplaces. Imagine that England or Ireland will end up hosting say Quidditch’s World Cup or at least Quidditch’s European Cup. Sure, a lot of people will rely on portkeys and mostly international ones...”

 

“But we are talking about a lot of people arriving to one place at roughly the same time,” nodded Ted. “So, in order to minimise the chaos, you would need to maintain other methods of working transportation.”

 

“And due to proximity of Muggle neighbourhoods you will have to be careful with usage of brooms and flying carpets. Hence, the Ministry will have to focus on maintaining properly working Floo Network,” added Andromeda.

 

“And they will be paid handsomely for it,” said Sirius.

 

“That one hypothetical time,” muttered Ted. “For maybe a few days.”

 

“Exactly,” Sirius and Andromeda said in unison.

 

“Well, that’s a load of bollocks if you ask me,” snorted Ted. “In Muggle world in Victorian era when Muggle industry literally bloomed one of the things that bloomed with manufactures was public transport which allowed better and quicker distribution of produced goods. Sure, transport of passengers was more like a side effect of needing to transport the goods but the point is...”

 

“Someone thought of that in the first place,” said Sirius. “So, what would you do about the public transport?”

 

“Mostly borrow from Muggle world,” admitted Ted. “I know that wizarding world uses cars, not many families do though and these who do use truly fancy ones from what I heard. But let’s say that we’re talking about a family that has an average income, average home and average number of children. The cost of maintaining singular fireplace connected to the Floo Network is quite high, as is the cost of the Floo powder itself. Sure, there’s apparation but not everybody likes it or feels good at it or wants to use it for different reasons and with children who cannot apparate themselves have to rely on the Floo Network or side-along apparation.”

 

“So, something like trains or buses?” asked Sirius.

 

“Regular connections between major cities,” nodded Ted. “If we’re talking about buses, we can magically enhance their speed and throw in invisibility spells. I’m sure that families with little children would appreciate a safe method of transport that wouldn’t be a shock to a child’s nervous system.”

 

“Children can get used to various wizarding ways of transportation,” Andromeda pointed out.

 

“Maybe,” Ted agreed. “But imagine that you’re a mother of a teething infant, your kid is cranky, barely sleeps so every moment it sleeps is precious. But you ran out of potions or anything and you have to head to Diagon Alley. So, what do you do?”

 

“I call my husband to pick what I need on his way home from work,” answered Andromeda. “Or ask a friend if she could do it.”

 

“And if they can’t?” asked Ted.

 

“Then you’re in trouble,” interjected Sirius. “Also imagine elderly people. Not all of them live long lives in a good health. Apparation is taxing, especially if its long distance. Then there are squibs that live with their families, they have to rely on other people’s good will to take them everywhere.”

 

“And if they don’t live with their families but exist on the fringes of wizarding world and they have a business in wizarding world then they have to use public transport anyway. Except it’s completely Muggle so there are no wizarding advantages like say enchanted speed,” pointed out Ted.

 

“So, creating certain connections between major cities in wizard maintained public transport has some merit,” nodded Sirius. “You’re hoping to get into the Department of Magical Transportation, aren’t you?” he asked Ted.

 

“If they will have me,” said Ted sourly.

 

“Why wouldn’t they?” asked Sirius curiously.

 

“Because I’m a Mudblood,” shrugged Ted.

 

“Ted!” chided him Andromeda while she looked sideways at Sirius with a weird look on her face.

 

“Really?” asked Sirius simply. “I couldn’t tell, you argue your point as if you spent your entire life in wizarding world.”

 

“No, I’m not and you’re just being nice,” said Ted simply before he looked at the door. “Excuse me for a moment, I have a prefect duty to handle,” he added as he walked to the door, stepped onto the corridor and closed the door behind himself before he turned left and disappeared from their view.

 

“Soo,” Sirius drawled out. “Ted the Hufflepuff Prefect is a Muggle-born,” he said simply.

 

“Shut up,” muttered Andromeda. “If you ever want to borrow Winifred again you will shut up.”

 

“No, I won’t,” grinned Sirius. “It’s good to see you making connections outside of your clique, Meda. Come to think about it, he’s kind of easy on the eye,” he added cheekily.

 

Andromeda had a decency to blush furiously at that.

 

“Nothing will come of it and we both know that,” she muttered finally. “But he’s smart, funny, kind,” she sighed.

 

“Loyal,” supplied Sirius.

 

Andromeda stared at him.

 

“He is a Hufflepuff, aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be loyal?” he supplied.

 

“I just need to feel...” she started and stopped abruptly. “Mother has been talking about possible candidates for my hand. Sure, the marriage won’t be arranged until I’ll graduate but regardless of whom I will end up with odds are that my marriage will either look like my parents’ or worse like my grandparents’.”

 

“So, you need to get your hopes for something better out of your system?” asked Sirius pointedly.

 

“Yes,” she grimaced. “It will pass,” she sighed heavily. “I just need a year of being my own person before I’ll be sold off to the highest bidder like a bloody trinket,” she added mutinously.

 

“You know that Grandpa Arcturus would wait with arranging your marriage until you would meet your love match, if you asked him to,” supplied Sirius.

 

“I know,” she muttered. “But here’s the thing, Sirius, I’ve seen them all with Bella before Mum and Dad settled on Rodolphus,” she sighed. “Their names aren’t going to change much. Sure, a couple of my school mates might make that list but they are just as...” she hung her voice.

 

“Lousy as the others?” supplied Sirius. “Hence, Ted Tonks, the Hufflepuff?” he asked.

 

“I’ll work it out of my system, I promise,” she sighed. “I just need more time...”

 

“Or freedom?” added Sirius.

 

“Are you going to tell my parents?” she asked grimly.

 

“About what?” he asked simply.

 

“About my crush on Ted?” she sighed.

 

“What crush and on what Ted?” he shrugged.

 

“Sirius,” she groaned.

 

“Seriously,” he smiled at her. “What crush and on what Ted?” he added cheekily. “Is there something I should be worrying about?”

 

“No,” she said slowly. “There’s nothing you should be worrying about.”

 

“Then all is settled,” he beamed at her as he stood up. “Just, please don’t elope with him before graduation.”

 

“So, you’re saying that I can elope with him after graduation?” she asked cheekily.

 

“Either way it would be your funeral,” he shrugged. “Grandpa Arcturus might put up with you waiting for a love match but eloping with a Muggle-born...” he grimaced. “It will go down on him like a drunken giant. Unlike Bella, he actually likes you, and Cissy.”

 

“I know,” she smiled. “I like him too, unlike my actual grandfather,” she snorted. “Did you hear that he started hanging around with Abraxas Malfoy?”

 

“That sleazy scumbag that has been eyeing Cissy’s… how did he put that, family assets?” grimaced Sirius.

 

“The same one,” nodded Andromeda. “He said and that’s a quote: she has a proper colouring for a Malfoy spouse if a bit too small hips to bear heirs properly. She is not even sixteen for Merlin’s sake.”

 

“Not to mention, Cissy is already married to her broom,” added Sirius. “And I have a bet with Grandpa Arcturus that Cissy will be the first Black that would play Quidditch professionally. To the horror of the entire family.”

 

“Well, I’m hoping that the pillock called his son didn’t get the memo yet,” snorted Andromeda. “I’m beyond pleased that Abraxas didn’t manage to buy him position of a Head Boy. He is still a Prefect though, so watch your back.”

 

“If he will start hitting on Cissy, he will have to watch his,” smirked Sirius. “I’m not losing that bet, Meda. Besides, you don’t have to worry, Cissy wouldn’t be that desperate for a proper marriage to bow to Malfoy’s will.”

 

“You don’t know that for certain,” grimaced Andromeda. “She’s not even a year younger than me and we are only a year apart at Hogwarts. The pool of viable candidates won’t be that big, especially if your Quidditch gambit won’t work.”

 

“It will,” grinned Sirius. “It’s Cissy and professional Quidditch. She won’t sacrifice her dreams of international Quidditch career for something she already has,” he added as he walked towards the door.

 

“I hope that you’re right,” sighed Andromeda.

 

“You know that I am,” said Sirius cheekily as he opened the door. “I’ll leave you to your plans. I’ve got to find my new friend. Have fun.”

 

“You too!” caught up with him as he was already heading back to the compartment in which he left James.

 

On his way back he passed by the compartment in which Narcissa was talking with a larger part of the Slytherin Quidditch team and he even waved back when she waved at him but wisely chosen to ignore the invitation knowing fully well that the youngest two members of the team would immediately jump on him and would start the mating dance of the desperate pure-blood girls.

 

He also passed the compartment in which the red-haired girl and the cantankerous boy settled down and covered in its entirety with various books. For a brief moment he toyed with the idea of coming in there and apologising for his earlier behaviour but in the end decided against it when he saw that the two got into a very heated and animated debate over something.

 

He also managed to run into Cora Greengrass and her twin brother Perseus who were sitting in a compartment with Prunella Parkinson, Wendeline Crabbe, Gabriel Warrington and a kid called Thomas Davis. He declined their invitation to join them using beginning of a headache caused by the lack of sleep as an excuse. Cora smiled at him and told him that it was alright and that they will see each other at Hogwarts anyway.

 

One of the last compartments to which contents he paid some attention was the one in which Bathsheda Babbling with a flock of other girls occupied. While he pondered the idea of coming in and introducing himself after taking a quick look at some of the other occupants of the compartment, he decided against that too. He really wasn’t in mood for mating dance and the presence of Daisy Brown and Gloria Yellow in the compartment meant unavoidable mating dance of a truly embarrassing variety.

 

Bloody Pinks and their perverted colour scheme. Pansy Pink married Richard Brown while her sister, Petunia married Henry Yellow. Their oldest daughters married a Gregory Grey and Gerard Green respectively and both made designs and less that subtle allusions that it would be great to have their youngest daughters married off to the Black boys. Luckily for both Sirius and Regulus Grandpa Arcturus didn’t find it as funny and meaningful as the last ladies of dying out in the male line Pink family and had quickly shut the idea down.

 

No, it was better not to tempt fate.

 

He finally returned to his own compartment and found James sprawled over the row of seats and snoring slightly. He was surrounded by wrappers from various sweets but on one of the opposite seats there was a small pile of various items and pastries from the cart.

 

It was heart-warming. A bit. It would have been more heart-warming if James managed to wait for him before going through his pile but he wasn’t going to look a gifted Hippogriff into the mouth. So, after poking around he picked a pumpkin pastry and stuffed it into his mouth. It was followed by another and another, then by a chocolate frog and then by a stray meat pastry which somehow wound up in the pile. He washed it down with pumpkin juice before he leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

 

When he opened them again it was already dusk, not quite as dark as Andromeda and Narcissa warned him that it might be when the train will finally reach Hogsmeade but just late enough that they had to be between an hour to half of hour away from Hogsmeade.

 

He looked around and saw James already dressed in school robes and grinning at him.

 

“You snore,” he said with a smile. “Does it happen often because if it does, I will have to review your status of a prospective dorm-mate.”

 

“I don’t snore,” mumbled Sirius and he yawned. “You on the other hand snore like a distraught troll,” he teased.

 

“No, I don’t,” James protested. “Mum would have told me.”

 

“I bet she would,” smirked Sirius. “Thanks for the sweets.”

 

“It’s not as if you ate all of them,” shrugged James. “Speaking of which, are you going to eat that?” he pointed at the rest of Sirius’s pile.

 

Sirius looked at it with disinterest. He could eat it but he knew from Andromeda’s and Narcissa’s tales that Hogwarts welcoming feasts were truly marvellous and he was looking forward to verify that. He wouldn’t be able to eat much of the feast if he stuffed himself with sweets.

 

“Not really,” he said finally as he stood up. “You can have it,” he added as he reached for his trunk.

 

“Cool,” grinned James and he immediately dove into the pile of sweets.

 

While James was going through the sweets Sirius dressed himself in school robes. He put slacks and button up shirt relatively fast but hesitated over the variety of sweaters he could wear underneath his robes. He immediately discarded button up sweater because Grandma Irma always tried to put him in one whenever she had a chance, claiming that he looked as distinguished in them as in a proper vest. He hadn’t, he looked ridiculous and button up sweaters weren’t vests, he knew the bloody difference. But should he choose a sweater vest or a simple jumper?

 

Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeons and they weren’t known for their warmth.

 

Gryffindor dormitories on the other hand were in a tower, miles away from the lingering coldness and dampness of the dungeons.

 

Why he was even considering it?

 

He knew where he was expected to end. Like the rest of the family in Slytherin or maybe in Ravenclaw, which was the only alternative house to Slytherin which the Black family considered as worth anything. Not that any Black ever ended there, they always managed to wind up in Slytherin in spite of finding Ravenclaw as the only other worthy house.

 

Ravenclaw dormitories were also in a tower, he reminded himself.

 

Why he was even thinking about Gryffindor? James wanted to end there, sure, but he wasn’t James. He had expectations to live up to. But it would be great to share a dormitory with this chocolate fiend and James might benefit from having a friend who was more aware than him of the surrounding world.

 

But if he was in Slytherin he would be able to keep an eye on Lucius Malfoy and hopefully keep him from hitting on Narcissa. It wasn’t that Narcissa couldn’t protect herself, she could be downright scary when she wanted and she could take care of herself just fine but it wouldn’t hurt her if there was someone around who could discourage Malfoy from fixing his attention on her. Andromeda certainly wasn’t going to do that seeing that she herself was occupied with her own romantic issues.

 

If he was in Ravenclaw on the other hand he might share a house with Babbling whom part of her entourage wouldn’t follow because Daisy Brown and Gloria Yellow weren’t really a Ravenclaw material. Babbling sounded great, like a good material for a friend.

 

Well, at least Hufflepuff was out of the questions.

 

And how they were going to sort them anyway? There had to be some way to sort the students and the method of sorting had to be under some sort of a spell because while every kid under Hogwarts entrance age knew that there was a way to sort students into various houses but no one of them could get their parents, older siblings and other relatives to talk about how it actually looked.

 

Those thoughts occupied his mind through the rest of the train ride. He tried to force himself to listen to James going on how Gryffindor common room looked from the stories James’s father shared with him but he constantly found himself zoning out of the conversation.

 

Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor.

 

Mother and father would kill him if he ended in Gryffindor and while Grandma Mel said that Grandpa Arcturus would have loved him anyway wherever he would end he had a sinking feeling that his grandparents wouldn’t be really happy about that outcome. James would.

 

Except, he wasn’t living with James. He was living with his parents to whom no other house than Slytherin was worthy having a member of the Black family.

 

Ravenclaw was an alternative but one that was mostly welcome by less Slytherin fixated members of the family.

 

“Hey, didn’t you hear that?” James’s voice tore him from his thoughts.

 

“What?” he asked quickly.

 

“The train stopped,” said James simply and as Sirius stood up and reached for his trunk he added. “We’re supposed to leave them here, the voice said that our things will be collected from the train.”

 

“Okay,” nodded Sirius.

 

“Come on then,” James hurried him. “Let’s go to Hogwarts.”

 

And they went. Down the corridor, along with the rest of the students that varied in age. Once on the platform older students headed out of the station towards carriages that were led…

 

“Cool,” James pipped up. “Horseless carriages.”

 

“What?” mumbled Sirius. “They...” he paused.

 

“They aren’t led by anything,” said James simply. “Ergo, horseless. What’s wrong with you?” he asked cautiously.

 

“Nerves,” muttered Sirius.

 

Of course, James never seen a thestral, he realised. Someone as sheltered as James wouldn’t be able to see…

 

Not a good way to head down right now, Black, he chided himself.

 

It had been years since he thought about it and he could still remember the terror of seeing the herd of thestrals roaming through the copses surrounding the Black Manor in Derbyshire for the very first time as well as the reason why he was able to see them.

 

Not a good way, Black, not a good way. He shook his head.

 

“Come on,” hissed James as he pulled him by the arm.

 

They wound up somewhere in the middle of the group of first years that followed an enormous man with dark, long, shabby hair through the woods that were so dark that Sirius could barely see the back of the kid in front of him and James on his left. The lantern that the man was holding didn’t appear to provide too much light.

 

Black. Black ahead. Black in the middle. Black behind.

 

Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor. Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor. Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor.

 

I wish it was over.

 

The loud round of “Ooooh” tore him from his thoughts just as the narrow path they were led through opened suddenly onto a black lake.

 

Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. It was nearly as breath-taking as the Black Manor on a winter evening, with all windows lit, luring into it with promises of warmth, safety and shelter. And like Black Manor in winter it was another illusion. Soon enough, before they will realise what happened they will be heading back down this road. Onto the train and then home.

 

Home to monsters that were free to roam the streets of London.

 

Home to monsters that at times whispered somewhat kind words just to spew venom in the next moment.

 

What will happen to Regulus once October will turn into November and Grandpa and Grandma will head to their resort to celebrate their wedding anniversary?

 

Most likely Reg will have to return home. To mother and father.

 

Something heavy settled in his Sirius’s stomach.

 

Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe. Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe.

 

He blanked out most of the boat ride to the other side. He knew that he had to get into the boat with James and a pair of similarly looking dark haired girl and boy.

 

James was saying something. Probably to him, or to the other two.

 

Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe.

 

“Just wait and see,” said James cheerfully. “Next seven years will be great.”

 

“Yeah,” Sirius managed to mumble out.

 

Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe.

 

The boats headed through a curtain of ivy and then down the tunnel deep into the cliff on which the castle stood. Finally, they reached an underground harbour and they all clambered out of the boats on the stones and pebbles.

 

Following the tall man with the lantern they clambered up the passageway in the rock and then up onto grassy shore under the shadow of the castle that towered above them. Then there was a flight of stony steps and finally they ended up in front of giant, oak, front door.

 

“Everyone here?” asked the man as he turned for a moment to face them.

 

His gaze lingered on them, as if he was making a quick headcount, before he turned around, raised his enormous fist and knocked three times on the castle’s door.

 

How one could get so big? He was abnormally tall, too tall to be considered as normally tall by wizarding standards. Even if his parents were tall, they wouldn’t be able to produce a kid that would be able to grow so big as an adult. Not without using some pretty shady magic.

 

Or maybe the answer was simpler than that. Didn’t he and Cissy teased Bella last year about Grandpa Arcturus marrying her off to a troll?

 

But it couldn’t be a troll. The man knew how to count and not only trolls were incredibly dumb but also some latent defence mechanism prevented children from mixed troll and wizarding unions from surviving toddler-hood if they somehow managed to survive birth. From what he read about the subject infant mortality of such half breeds was so abnormally high that even St Mungo’s issued a very gruesome pamphlet about the effects and dangers of troll and wizarding sexual relations, way back in nineteenth century. It was a mortifying read, nightmare inducing but very informative.

 

A giant though…

 

It was a subject worth further research, he decided just as the door swung open.

 

A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face that reminded Sirius of Great-grandmother Letta (she abhorred her full name, Violetta), the bane of his early childhood.

 

He shook his head just as the tall man said, “The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.”

 

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here,” said the witch.

 

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was big, way bigger than the one at 12 Grimmauld Place but smaller than the one in Black Manor in Derbyshire. The stone walls were lit with torches, again like at 12 Grimmauld Place and unlike at Black Manor which was fitted with gas lights (a very unpopular in wizarding world Muggle invention which Great-granduncle Phineas insisted on installing after he adapted it to run on magic). The ceiling was high, not as high as the one in the library at the Black Manor, but it was still too high to make out, so maybe it was only a tad smaller than the one in the library. On the right side of the hall was quite magnificent marble staircase that lead to upper floors.

 

Once they all gathered inside the entrance hall and the doors closed behind them Professor McGonagall turned to them and said, “Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-the-term feast will begin, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.”

 

James elbowed him into the ribs and smiled at him enthusiastically.

 

“The Sorting is a very important ceremony,” continued McGonagall, “because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room,” she paused for a moment before she continued. “There are four houses at Hogwarts. They’re called Gryffindor,” James elbowed him into the ribs again, “Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you’re at Hogwarts, your triumphs will be your house triumphs and earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour,” she paused again. “I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house will become yours.”

 

“Better be in Gryffindor,” whispered James practically into his ear.

 

Sirius nodded slowly.

 

“Now,” said McGonagall. “It appears that you don’t need to smarten yourself up so you can follow me,” the group took a step towards her. “But before you do so, please, form a line,” she added quickly.

 

The line formed after a moment of shuffling around, with Sirius and James somewhere in the middle, and once McGonagall looked somewhat pleased with its state, she opened the double doors that lead into the Great Hall.

 

It looked as marvellous as Meda and Cissy described it. Above their heads, mid-air, were floating thousands and thousands of candles and beyond them was velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

 

Sirius found himself smiling at the sight. Stars always soothed him and he kept staring at the ceiling as McGonagall led them through the hall between the four long tables. He was so focused on watching the ceiling that when the line finally stopped, he walked into the kid in front of him. A somewhat tallish (still smaller than him though), lanky boy with sandy brown hair.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled quickly.

 

“Nervous?” whispered the boy.

 

“You have no idea,” Sirius whispered back.

 

“I think I do,” the boy smiled nervously at him before he quickly turned around to face McGonagall.

 

In the meantime, while he and the boy were talking McGonagall placed a four-legged stool on the floor in front of the line. On the top of it she placed a pointed wizard’s hat. It was patched, frayed and looked as if someone recently dumped it into a puddle and used drying charm on it without cleaning it from dirt first.

 

If we have to pull a rabbit out of it, I’m going to punch someone.

 

Suddenly the hat twitched and the rip by the brim opened wide like a mouth and it began to sing.

 

That was it.

 

Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor.

 

Where the hell I’m going to end up?

 

What about Reg?

 

I shouldn’t be here. I really should have stayed at home.

 

He turned around to look at the door. Technically, he still could pull a runner. Nothing was set in stone yet.

 

Sweet Merlin. Blessed Morgana. Keep him safe. I would do anything, just keep him safe.

 

Regulus.

 

James.

 

Grandma Mel.

 

Grandpa Arcturus.

 

Cissy.

 

Meda.

 

Father.

 

Mother.

 

Sweet Merlin, I can’t.

 

He took a deep if somewhat shaky breath.

 

“You okay, Sirius?” asked James cautiously. “You look kind of green.”

 

Somewhere between James’s words the hat sang something about Hufflepuffs loyalty.

 

“I’m fine,” he lied quickly.

 

He wasn’t. The heavy feeling he experienced before the boat ride settled in his stomach again. His palms were sweating and he felt a chill running down his spine. He took another shaky breath just as the thought occurred to him.

 

I’m going to faint.

 

I’m going to faint. In the middle of the Great Hall. Right before I got sorted.

 

Black, you bloody wimp, the long-forgotten voice of Charlie Hollister from 3 Grimmauld Place teased him.

 

I’m not a wimp, I wasn’t back then and I’m not one now, he told himself firmly.

 

I’m a Black. The Blacks don’t faint, they don’t run away from a challenge, they don’t show fear.

 

Even and especially when they’re really afraid.

 

“I’m going to send a howler to my dad,” he heard James mutter. “He told me that we’re supposed to fight a troll and all we have to do is try a barmy old hat.”

 

“What?” mumbled Sirius.

 

“You really didn’t listen to that, did you?” asked James suspiciously. “You poor Hufflepuff,” he grinned.

 

“I’m not a Hufflepuff,” retorted Sirius. “I’m just nervous.”

 

“About trying a hat?” asked James cheekily.

 

“Shush,” hissed the boy in front of them.

 

It wasn’t just a hat though. It was something that would shape their lives from now on. Their entire future depended on what that piece of cloth would decide.

 

Their friends.

 

Their enemies.

 

Future spouses.

 

Grandpa Arcturus writing a marriage contract that proclaimed the union between the Black and the Brown families by marrying Sirius to Daisy Brown.

 

Over my dead body, he shook his head.

 

Bathsheda Babbling with a big grin on her face. Quickly he looked around and saw her standing in the front of the line. At least it seemed that it was her.

 

James at his side, well, technically a step behind him, but hovering as close as he could get to standing by his side while still standing in a line.

 

He glanced around and at the Slytherin table he spotted Andromeda and Narcissa, they were sitting side by side and smiling at him.

 

Reg at home or maybe even at the Black Manor with Grandma Mel.

 

Grandpa Arcturus probably heading to Hogsmeade if he wasn’t there already and probably counting down minutes to when he could casually drop by and invite Horace Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin house, to the Black family New Year’s Eve Ball, four months before it was supposed to happen.

 

I can do this. Whatever happens next, I can do this, he told himself firmly. No matter where the shoe is going to drop because if one thing was certain it was that it was going to happen pretty soon.

 

“When I call your name,” said McGonagall making Sirius look at her and at the long roll of parchment she was holding, “you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she paused only for long enough to glance at the parchment before she called out, “Abbott, Charlotte!”

 

A tiny, girl with long, dark blonde braid stepped forward and gingerly sat on the stool before she placed the hat on the top of her head. She was so tiny that the hat practically swallowed her head.

 

It looked very disturbing. But just as Sirius was about to shake himself the hat called out:

 

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

 

The shout was immediately followed by the clapping from the table on the right. Charlotte gently removed the hat from her head and walked to the table. She sat down just as “Abbott, Margaret” was called out and she looked expectantly at the other tiny girl with dark brown braid that took her place on the stool.

 

Apart from their hair they appeared to look exactly the same.

 

“From where she came from,” mumbled James just as the hat shouted again.

 

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

 

“Distant cousin?” supplied Sirius.

 

“With those faces?” muttered James. “I’ve been lied to,” he snorted.

 

Ah, a Potter life lesson, smiled Sirius to himself.

 

“Avery, Archibald!” called out McGonagall.

 

Avery was over a head taller than the Abbott girls and so round that they would need a third sister, okay maybe half of a one, to match him. He had light blonde hair that was falling into his eyes, but they weren’t as light as Narcissa’s.

 

The hat barely touched his head before it called out:

 

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

As quickly as he could he headed to the Slytherin table and sat in front Andromeda and Narcissa.

 

“Babbling, Bathsheba!” called out McGonagall in the meantime.

 

Babbling hurried to the chair and just before she sat down and put on the hat she said, and quite loudly on that, “Bathsheda, Professor.”

 

McGonagall frowned and she looked down at the list before she looked back at Babbling.

 

Babbling unlike Abbott girls wasn’t tiny but the brim of the hat still settled right above her eyes which she kept closed. The hat remained on her head for a longer while that stretched for what felt like hours. But maybe it was just a minute, two at the most before the hat finally called out:

 

“RAVENCLAW!”

 

Babbling stood up and removed the hat but she didn’t place it back on the stool. In the meantime, McGonagall looked at the list.

 

Please, say, “Black, Miranda,” he thought feverishly.

 

“Black, Sirius!”

 

Bollocks.

 

Sirius took a deep breath, that he hoped wasn’t heard by the people he had to excuse in order to get to the stool and accepted the hat from Babbling’s hand. She smiled at him encouragingly before she skipped to Ravenclaw table and sat down.

 

He sat down on the stool and placed the hat on the top of his head. The brim of the hat, like in Babbling’s case stopped right above his eyes. He only managed to spot James beaming at him from the crowd before he closed his eyes.

 

“Hmm,” said a tiny voice in his ear. “Another Black, it had been a while since I saw one of you here,” it paused for a moment. “Difficult,” it continued, “very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. Talent, quite a lot of it. Unwavering loyalty. And yes, that’s interesting, a nice thirst to prove yourself,” it paused again. “So where shall I put you Mr Black?”

 

Sirius remained silent. Whatever the hat decided he wasn’t going to dig a grave for himself. Hopefully it wasn’t going to place him in Hufflepuff.

 

“Not Hufflepuff?” asked the voice. “Are you sure? You could be a crowning jewel...”

 

No, thank you, he thought.

 

“Ah, so he speaks,” the voice said cheerfully. “Is that your tactic to get what you want, the lot of you? Just stay silent?”

 

No, we can talk an awful lot, he thought.

 

“Politics, polices,” the voice said. “You’re months shy of twelve and you’re better oriented in politics than people twice your age. But is this the path you truly want to go?”

 

Do I have a choice?

 

“Of course, you always have a choice!” the voice nearly boomed. “Even now,” it added more softly. “So, what do you chose, Mr Black?”

 

His thoughts flashed to Reg, six and terrified that mother will beat him for destroying that ugly vase from Great-grandmother Letta but it wasn’t their mother who doled out the punishment and it wasn’t Reg who got punished for it. He was the one who paid the price, he was paying it still…

 

Then they flew to James, to his eager smile, enthusiasm and this simple acceptance. He wouldn’t have to pretend in front of James and maybe if he stuck around, he could help him get rid of his ignorance.

 

Then they flew to Babbling, just as eager as James, curious and nervous but welcoming. To Grandma Mel, with her reading glasses on, sitting on the couch and reading books to him and Reg.

 

That’s to what it boiled down in the first place.

 

Slytherin. Gryffindor. Ravenclaw.

 

He was the one who had to make the choice, not the hat.

 

The feverish dream he dreamed for ages, ever since he realised that ultimately, he had a power over his father, maybe not yet, but soon, maybe few years down the line when he would be older, wiser…. The Head of the Black family like he was always supposed to be and when that time would come...

 

He could swing it from either of those places but only from one place it would be easier than from the other two. Only from that place he would be able to protect himself, protect Reg, maybe even Cissy and Meda.

 

“Are you sure?” asked the voice.

 

You had your chance and told me that I have a choice in the first place.

 

“If that’s your choice then better be SLYTHERIN!”

 

The last word was shouted to the whole hall and he opened his eyes just in the right moment to register the look of complete shock on James’s face. Still holding his gaze, he removed the hat from his head and waited for the next kid in line without tearing his eyes from James.

 

Him being in Slytherin didn’t have to change a thing, they could still be friends. It might be harder...

 

“Blishwick, Barnabus!”

 

He barely registered passing the hat to Blishwick and still looking at James for as long as he could he stepped towards the Slytherin table.

 

“I knew it,” said Narcissa happily as she hugged him.

 

He hugged her back and mumbled, “Thanks.”

 

“What happened to your enthusiasm?” asked Andromeda over Cissy’s shoulder.

 

“I think that I might lose a friend I just made,” he admitted.

 

“Well, if that friend of yours truly wants to be you friend then they won’t be bothered by the colours you’re going to wear,” said Andromeda simply. “Look at me and Kathleen Kensington.”

 

“Yes, they’re both disgusting,” chimed in Narcissa. “Each is also the reason why the other is losing house points for being out of common room after curfew,” she rolled her eyes. “Cheer up.”

 

“I’m cheering,” he said simply.

 

“I can see that,” chimed in Avery. “The enthusiasm is just rolling out of you.”

 

“At least I’m not the one...” he started and he bit his tongue.

 

“Who will have to be rolled out of Great Hall?” offered Avery. “Fat joke. How original,” he snorted.

 

“Sorry, I’m having a bad day,” sighed Sirius. “I’m usually in better control of my mouth.”

 

“Don’t worry,” shrugged Avery. “I’m used to it and at least you had a decency to bite your tongue, unlike my father…. He just uses inflating charm on me when he’s annoyed with me,” he shrugged again.

 

“Does it happen a lot?” asked Sirius cautiously.

 

“Often enough, but he’s gone a lot so...” said Avery and he shrugged once again just as the hat called out.

 

“RAVENCLAW!”

 

“Blishwick?” whispered Sirius to Narcissa.

 

“Also in Ravenclaw,” she whispered back. “That was Gregory Boot. Now shush before McGonagall will shush us.”

 

“Brown, Daisy!” was nearly immediately followed by “GRYFFINDOR!”

 

Sirius only managed to think, good riddance before she was followed by “Cornfoot, Robert!” who just as fast as her ended in Ravenclaw.

 

“Crabbe, Wendeline!” took a minute or two to sort but in the end, she ended in Slytherin.

 

“Hey Wendy,” Sirius smiled at her when she sat down next to Avery.

 

“No surprises,” she said simply.

 

“So, what place you had to talk the hat out of?” he asked cheekily.

 

“Hufflepuff,” she snorted. “Told me that I would fare well there,” she rolled her eyes. “As if…” she shook her head.

 

“Davis, Thomas!”

 

“Nearly entire dad’s family was in Slytherin, mum’s in Gryffindor, those who weren’t were in Ravenclaw and that….”

 

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

“… demented piece of cloth wanted to put me in Hufflepuff,” she finished.

 

Davis, tall, probably the tallest after Sirius and lanky blonde-haired boy approached the table and sat down next to her.

 

“Hey again,” Davis smiled at Sirius before he sat down.

 

“Delgado, Carmen!”

 

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

 

“Delgado, Diego!”

 

“Cousins or twins?” asked Avery curiously.

 

Sirius looked at the stool. He remembered him from the boat ride or at the very least someone who looked like him.

 

“Twins from what I can tell,” he said before he looked back at Avery.

 

“RAVENCLAW!”

 

“Nice round up,” said Avery. “The Abbotts, the Delgados...”

 

“The Greengrass twins are in our year too,” supplied Sirius.

 

“Please, shush,” hissed Narcissa, “McGonagall is looking our way.”

 

Sirius raised his head and smiled at the Professor.

 

She shook her head and called out, “Eggbert, Patrick” who within seconds ended in Ravenclaw.

 

“Evans, Lily!”

 

The red-haired girl from the train approached the stool on trembling legs. Barely seconds after McGonagall put the hat on her head – since when she was putting the hat on students’ heads – the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

 

And then went one ‘better be in Slytherin’, good for her, at least with that surname, which definitely wasn’t a wizarding one, which meant that she was either a half-blood or a Muggle-born, odds were that she would survive being in Gryffindor. Provided that she won’t wind up stepping on anyone’s foot.

 

“Fawley, Dennis” that followed her was another boy who ended up in Ravenclaw.

 

 “Want to bet on the twins?” asked Davis

 

“Slytherin, both of them,” smirked Sirius.

 

“Perseus maybe,” Davis smirked back. “Persephone feels more like Ravenclaw material.”

 

“Then you don’t know her very well,” whispered Sirius. “That girl is as Slytherin as one can get.”

 

Soon enough in a very rapid succession, “Greengrass, Persephone” and “Greengrass, Perseus” ended in Slytherin. Cora sat down next to him while Perseus sat down next to Davis and they started whispering to each other.

 

“It was love from the first sight,” whispered Cora into his ear. “Though I don’t think either of them noticed it yet.”

 

“Sheltered much?” he whispered to her.

 

“Davis?” she mumbled. “Cousin of those Davises. Somewhat estranged, raised by his Muggle-born mother after his father pulled a disappearing act. Quite intelligent...”

 

“Shush!” hissed Narcissa.

 

“… desperate to fit in,” she finished softly. “And you know Percy,” she quipped.

 

“What?” mumbled Perseus.

 

“Nothing,” she beamed at him.

 

“Did we miss something?” asked Sirius as he turned to Narcissa.

 

“Three Hufflepuffs in a row,” she muttered. “One of which was Desmond Jenkins.”

 

“Her son?” whispered Sirius.

 

“Her nephew,” she replied.

 

“Shut up, you two,” hissed Andromeda. “Pussy’s younger brother is getting sorted!”

 

“Rodolphus’s younger brother? Wasn’t he supposed to end in Beauxbatons?” mumbled Sirius as he looked at the boy walking towards the stool.

 

Even from a distance he could recognise the tiny Lestrange that followed Rodolphus around.

 

“Do we know another pussy?” whispered Narcissa.

 

“Isn’t your mother’s least favourite Kneazle named Pussy?” asked Sirius pointedly

 

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

“Damn it,” Sirius, Narcissa and Andromeda hissed in unison.

 

“Not a fan?” asked Cora curiously.

 

“He’s a bit disturbing,” whispered Sirius hastily because Rabastan was approaching the table.

 

He stopped next to Davis and Perseus, looked at both of them and then walked around the table to sit down on Cora’s other side.

 

“Lupin, Remus” turned out to be the boy who stood in front of Sirius in line to get sorted, at least it seemed from the distance that it was him. He sat on the stool for about two or three minutes before the hat sent him to Gryffindor. He was followed by “MacDonald, Mary” who like him ended in Gryffindor although it took her less time to get sorted. Following the two of them were “Moon, Ruth” and “Mulciber, Malcolm” and they both ended in Slytherin.

 

They approached Sirius’s side of the table and while Mulciber sat down next to Rabastan Lestrange, Moon stopped between Cora and Lestrange and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

 

Lestrange didn’t react so Sirius snorted under his breath before he said sweetly, “Oh, Stan, be a gentleman.”

 

“What?” hissed Lestrange angrily as he was turning towards him but as soon as he looked at him, he faltered.

 

“You don’t want me to write to my Grandfather so he can write to your grandfather how like an uncultured little swine you’re behaving, are you?” asked Sirius with a big grin. “The lady asked you if you could move.”

 

“Fine,” Lestrange muttered as he scooted over to make place for Moon. “Just don’t call me Stan.”

 

“Okay, Stan,” quipped Sirius.

 

Their argument lasted for long enough for Prunella Parkinson to get sorted into Slytherin after some Hufflepuff girl whose name Sirius didn’t manage to catch.

 

Parkinson sat down next to Wendeline.

 

Sirius’s gaze settled on McGonagall. If they were at Ps that meant that “Potter, James” should come as one of the next names.

 

“Pettigrew, Peter!”

 

Maybe as the next one.

 

Seconds tickled and turned into a minute. Then another, and another.

 

“Did he fainted over there?” asked Avery as he turned over his shoulder and therefore answered his own question.

 

Another minute had passed and Pettigrew was still sitting on the stool.

 

“Maybe the hat is trying to think for a special house for him, somewhere where a squeaky scared thing like him go,” muttered Lestrange. “The Pippingpuff maybe.”

 

“Cora, the moon of my life, be a dear,” whispered Sirius to Cora.

 

“Yes, honey,” she quipped as she reached over Moon and slapped Lestrange on the back of his head.

 

“What that was for?” he hissed angrily.

 

“Why don’t you think about it instead of talking,” offered Avery before he turned to Sirius and Cora. “So, when is the wedding?”

 

“What wedding?” asked Sirius and Cora in unison.

 

“Some ten years from now provided that one of them won’t change their mind,” chimed in Perseus. “They think that it’s a big secret,” he snorted. “Our older brother overheard them. Mum would be planning the wedding if Arcturus Black wasn’t against marrying children off.”

 

“I don’t remember such a thing stopping her before,” quipped Sirius. “How man fiancées your brother had been through before the big date arrived?”

 

“Enough,” smirked Perseus. “From my...”

 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

 

“Finally,” snorted Prunella over Perseus saying some form of a blessing for marrying his sister eventually.

 

But Sirius didn’t pay them any attention because finally “Potter, James” was called. The hat barely touched his head before it sent him to Gryffindor. Sirius waited for some sign but James didn’t even look his way before he walked to Gryffindor table and sat down next to Pettigrew with his back to Sirius.

 

Bollocks, thought Sirius before he sighed.

 

James was followed by “Quirke, Oswald,” yet another Ravenclaw boy and “Rosier, Evan.”

 

Sirius leaned toward Narcissa to mumble, “Some cousin of yours?” but before he managed to say it Rosier ended in Slytherin. He sat down next Mulciber and the two of them started talking.

 

“Snape, Severus” was called in next.

 

Better be in Gryffindor, thought Sirius, you aren’t cut out for a Slytherin.

 

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

Bollocks again, thought Sirius as he sighed again.

 

Snape approached the table with no hesitance in his step. Immediately he spotted Sirius and grimaced. Suddenly something weird happened. Lestrange, Mulciber and Rosier moved over the remainder of the bench in a smooth motion, placing their elbows firmly on the table.

 

“First lesson of being a Slytherin,” said Perseus without turning his back. “There’s always a pecking order and you seem to be having a problem with the rooster. Even Mulciber knows that.”

 

“Hey!” hissed Mulciber.

 

“Hey yourself,” snorted Perseus as he patted the bench next to him. “Sit here and quit frowning.”

 

“How does he do that?” asked Avery as he looked at Sirius.

 

“He’s a Greengrass,” said Sirius simply. “They all have it,” he shrugged.

 

“Or you can sit down with the higher forms,” said Lestrange. “We don’t care.”

 

“We do,” growled Sirius at him. “We’re Slytherins and Slytherin looks after their own, Lestrange. Now, stop sitting like an uncultured swine before I’ll have something else to the letter I’m going to write to my grandfather.”

 

“Who is?” asked Snape sceptically.

 

Rosier, Mulciber and Lestrange snorted.

 

“The man who has the power to ensure that Lestrange and probably also Rosier will be pulled out of Hogwarts and sent to somewhere very far and very cold,” quipped Cora. “He’s also the man who employs Mulciber’s dad so he too will shut his bloody gob,” she added sweetly. “Now, be a dear Severus and sit next to my brother before McGonagall will come over here and asks what seems to be a problem.”

 

Snape sat next to Perseus albeit slightly unwillingly.

 

“Did we miss anything?” whispered Sirius to Narcissa.

 

“Speke, James,” she answered. “Hufflepuff. Now is...”

 

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

 

“That was Kevin Spinnet,” she said.

 

Spinnet was followed by “Turner, Hannah”, who also ended in Hufflepuff while the one who followed her, “Turner, James” ended in Ravenclaw. “Vance, Emmet” who followed him was sorted into Hufflepuff.

 

Then “Verascez, Mirzam” was called and sat under the hat. For a minute. Then another and another and then as it looked like another stall the hat decided to send her to Ravenclaw where she sat down next to Babbling who hugged her quickly.

 

“Warrington, Gabriel” headed to Slytherin, he was quickly followed by “Wilkes, Samuel” and the two of them together sat next to Rosier. “Williamson, Edmund” became another Ravenclaw boy and then finally only three girls were left.

 

“Wong, Mia” ended in Gryffindor, “Yellow, Gloria” blessedly not in Slytherin but in Hufflepuff and finally, “Zeller, Samantha” ended in Hufflepuff as well.


End file.
